First off, I apologize for the large, large gap between
entries. My excuses are 1) I’ve been really busy which means 2) there’s lots to
write about, which resulted in 3) indecisiveness about what exactly to write
about. However, two nights ago, I finally found myself inspired and with
direction.
This entry is not about my new job, new apartment, new
social life, or new country. It doesn’t describe a cultural misstep, or a
concept lost in translation. But it does very accurately capture the spirit of
this blog.
I think it’s safe to say that washing machines are not
typically associated with excitement. I would describe my feelings toward them,
until recently, as fairly neutral. Similarly, though I have nowhere near the
ninja-level laundry and stain-lifting skills as my mother, I like to think of
myself as - at the very least - adept.
The primary difference between the laundry machines I’ve
encountered here and those I’ve encountered in the States is that the ones here
are washer-dryers. Yes, it (in
theory) both washes and dries your clothes in a single device. You might think,
fantastic! No transferring from one to the other? I can just stick my clothes
in, press a few buttons, and that’s it? Am
I dreaming?
So yes, in theory, this has the potential to be a magical
device. In practice, however, this has not been my experience, as illustrated
by the following:
ATTEMPT #1:
Location:
Hotel-apartment
Circumstance: Out
of gym clothes (yes, even after multiple uses), critically low on underwear
Attempted cycle: cold
wash, no or light dry
What actually
happened: After consulting the panel, which consisted of no actual words –
only symbols and numbers with no intuitive meaning, and after consulting the
hotel-provided list of instructions, which offered little insight, I decided to
make a best guess (how bad could it be?), add a small packet of detergent
(since there was no clue how much to add, only a warning that too much could
damage the machine…) and pressed my (second) guess of the start button.
Over two hours
later, after apparently a very hot wash and dry cycle (the precise opposite of
what I had hoped for). I tentatively open the door. First off, the clothes were
too hot to touch. (intended wash/dry cycle: fail). Second, there was clearly not enough detergent involved,
so instead of my clothes smelling so fresh and so clean,
they smelled even worse than when
they had gone in, as if the heat of the wash and dry had effectively baked in and intensified the scent of
sweat. At this point, it’s already past midnight, so I stuff all infected
clothes into a drawer (while fighting nausea) slam the door closed, and call it
a night.
Overall result: MAJOR
FAIL
ATTEMPT #2:
Location:
Hotel-apartment
Circumstance: Attempt
to rectify previous laundry fail
Attempted cycle: Wash/dry,
but hopefully not as hot as the previous attempt
What actually
happened: This time I figure, I’ll get
smart and look up the manual online. This was a great plan until the
internet in the entire hotel went down. Three hours later I’m tired of waiting,
and decide to go for it, resolving to troubleshoot from last time, cross my
fingers, and hope for the best.
Two hours later, the cycle finishes, with clothes smelling
slightly better but certainly not the fresh-clean scent I was hoping for, but sopping wet.
Overall result: MINOR FAIL. (It took the clothes over 48
hours to air dry)
ATTEMPT #3:
Location: Hotel
-apartment
Circumstance:
Moving out in a few days, and figure I don’t want to have to worry about
laundry for the first couple days.
Attempted cycle:
Dry only
What actually
happened: Ok, this time, I’ve eliminated one potential pitfall by hand
washing my clothes in the sink; this is really just an effort to speed up the process. Past empirical
experience tells me that clearly, this machine is capable of drying clothing. The
internet is running, I find what appears to be the manual, and follow (or so I
thought) the directions for a dry-only cycle. What could possibly go wrong?
Two plus hours later, I open the door to find sopping wet clothes.
I refer to the manual again, fiddle with the settings again,
and hope for the best. The cycle was still going at midnight, so I go to bed,
cross my fingers, and hope for the best. I wake up the next morning, open the
door, and find wet laundry. I am
forced to pack still-damp clothing in the move to my new apartment.
Overall result:
FAIL.
ATTEMPT #4:
Location:
Apartment! (more on this later)
Circumstance: New
towels. I was desperate and used one without washing a couple times, which
resulted in a residue of navy-blue fuzz whenever used. Clearly, not a
sustainable solution.
Attempted cycle:
Wash and dry, hopefully warm/cold wash.
What actually
happened: Ok, new place, new
machine, new luck. I even found the instruction manual in a drawer! Again, what could possibly go wrong? Towels
in, along with a couple gym shirts and some underwear, dials set, door closed,
go. The washer hums along. The display says it’s going to take 4 hours, but I’m ok with it. One of my flatmates
gets back; we chat, I have some dinner, we’re watching the soccer – ahem,
football – game, I’m chatting with friends back home on my computer, when
suddenly. One of our fuses blows.
Crap. But being the proud daughter of an electrician, I know how to solve this
problem! I flip the switch; it works briefly, then goes out again. Same result
after a second time. At this point, the flatmate is getting really depressed
about the prospect of missing the rest of the “football” match, but I know what
needs to be done – a choice must be made. Either the TV/cable has to go, or the
washer. The solution, then, is clear. I flip the washer switch to the off position, flip the fuse, the TV and cable starts to boot back up, and lo, (one) crisis averted!
Unfortunately, I open the door, and it’s immediately clear that my towels are still wet. But hey! They
smell clean; I don’t need them right away, it’s going to be fine! Until I start
pulling things out and the two navy washcloths I threw in clearly bled like nothing I’ve ever washed before. That nice taupey, creamish
colored towel I just purchased that sort of matches the bathroom? Now a greenish color that I can’t even
properly describe. The black underwear with white polka dots? Well, not so
white anymore. The new white gym socks? Now a sort of an off-grey. Thankfully,
none of my favorite items got really badly damaged, but needless to say, this
was not exactly how I wanted to start
things out in the new place.
Overall result:
MINOR FAIL.
If anyone has made it this far, I’m a bit shocked that you’ve
stayed with me. And yes, writing this was in some ways cathartic, and perhaps
not particularly kind to my readers. And yes, I promise to tell you about all
the fancy cars and tall buildings soon. But right now, all I want is to
successfully do a load of laundry.
